Snowflakes

Moments where life becomes perfect are simply that, brief and few in passing. They are instances that time grants to carry one through the rest of life's trials. Wanting those moments to last is a fool's wish, a lesson that I learned one cold December night.

I had left the camp that night, not out of anger, or sadness, or a broken heart, but out of disappointment. To see Inuyasha so blind to the world around him, to see someone, anyone, that I care about throw away the efforts of all those who've strived to ensure his survival was a hard blow to take.

I, Miroku, Sango, Shippou, his mother, his father, had all tried so hard, so very hard, to keep him afloat.

But what could we do when his own will is lost?

I don't believe that it was any single event that caused this final loss of will. The death of Kikyo, the loss of Tetsusaiga, the final destruction of the Shikon no Tama on their own would not have stopped him.

He was stronger, so much stronger, than that.

But their combined weight had slowly sapped him of his strength and vitality, and even our combined efforts could not stop him from that path.

And so, I became tired of seeing him wither away, laying to waste not only the work that was done for him, but also the bond that we had all once shared. His defeat was perhaps that greatest defeat that we had suffered together and may be the one and only that we will not recover from.

I felt disappointed, and so unbelievably cheated.

But then again, my feelings no longer applied, if they ever did.

So now, I find myself down this path again, leading me deep into the forest where I can stop and forget, if only for a little while, the hardships of life. As I walked, the snow began to fall, small, ice-laden flakes that melted on contact, a far cry from the fat, lazy ones that drifted through my childhood.

I missed those times, missed them so very much.

But I could still pretend right?

And there I saw him, majestic and stoic, as always, as forever, as himself, as Sesshoumaru. I said nothing, for there really was nothing to say and slowly lowered myself beside him, drawing from him the will to carry on. In such a world, he seemed to be one of the few constants, set in stone as the ages rolled on.

And yet I knew this to be impossible, so utterly impossible, for time had its way of breaking the strongest.

But I could pretend for now, just for my sanity's sake.

We stayed frozen, as if we had succumbed to the chilling temperatures around us, neither needing words, both knowing what needed to be done, both hesitant to begin. He turned to me first, a cold brush of lips upon lips. A simple caress that spoke for more than could possibly be conveyed with words.

And he was brave, so much braver than I could ever hope to be.

But that's not always a good thing.

We parted that night in the frigid snow, both needing, wanting, each other, but realizing that time, life, the world had decided long ago that we were not to be. We knew that hanging on would hurt even more than letting go, and our responsibilities weighed so heavily on the rift between us that we could not help the chasm that formed.

And now, time, so much time, has passed since that moment in the snow. My children have children, and I have never seen him again.

But at the very leastI have a moment to think of, to reminisce about.

Snowflakes are drifting now, fat and lazy, lasting for a brief moment before vanishing.

Author's Note: I realize that there are a lot of missing pieces and various gaps in the story, but I feel that the best stories leave much to the imagination of the reader. I thought that perhaps an appearance by me was long overdue and I apologise for such a long vacation, but between university, kendo, friends, and family, I really can't give Umbra the time that it deserves. Forgive me? So I hope you enjoy this small gesture on my part and I swear that Umbra will be finished.